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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 21:54:15 GMT -6
It didn’t often happen that a request on the quest board lined up with any of Malcolm’s actual goals, but today he found himself pleasantly surprised. There was an invitation to some sort of bonfire event. He skimmed the invitation for the specifics, and there was a lot of window dressing -- events and attractions, and some kind of sponsorship nonsense from one of the dime a dozen laboratories that churned out the monsters that populated the area -- but the important thing was that it would be a social event. In other words, a chance for him to network. Of course, he didn’t expect to find a lot of high class company there… But you needed all kinds of connections, especially in unfamiliar territory. There was no telling when it might be useful to know some cheap thugs for hire, for example, or even a historian with a real niche interest. 1
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 21:54:26 GMT -6
Besides, an outdoor event was also a good place to bring Fretful -- or at least as much of one as there could be, anyway, if pool parties weren’t an option. And at this time of year it was a bit unseasonal for pool parties, unfortunately, so this was just about the next best thing.
She had, at least, acclimated to these trips to the quest board. It was something that Malcolm did with fair regularity, and familiarity did seem to breed a certain level of contempt, after a while. It was a good thing too; he had to have a break from what would otherwise have been the unpleasantness of dealing with her moods everywhere they went, for the rest of her life, possibly. It was good to see that there was some answer to the question of whether he could train her out of the worst of it.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 21:54:38 GMT -6
She was still a fish, but thus far the experience had been more setbacks than not, and any glimmer of hope in that light was something to be glad for. When she had been smaller, he had been of half a mind to sell her off still, if she proved to be too much trouble, but having put in the work now, he couldn’t quite bring himself to write it all off wholesale.
He didn’t have the ribbon on, since this was a part of their routine by now, and he didn’t particularly feel the need to have an active line of communication. But he tucked the invitation away for later; the event wouldn’t be for a few days, which was plenty of time to inform her of where they were going. He was finding it wasn’t good to give her too much information about their plans in advance, funnily enough.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 21:54:50 GMT -6
He had thought it might help her manage… herself, or whatever it was she was dealing with, if she knew what was coming, but as it turned out, it just gave her more room and ammunition to work herself up. So he had taken to managing the information she was allowed to have, to keep her from getting to that point as much as possible. Well, with that decided, it was time for them to continue on to other things around town that Malcolm needed to check on. He left the job board and tugged the little cart with the tank on it with him. ----- A few days later, and it was time for the bonfire. It was a dry day, but very chilly, and Malcolm could already tell upon arriving that he was going to spend at least a somewhat uncomfortable evening here, dressed as he was. 4
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 21:55:00 GMT -6
He had opted to make himself look as sharp as he could get away with being; this wasn’t a formal event, so he would stick out if his clothes were too fine or too stuffy. But at the same time, he had come to this place to see and be seen, so to speak, and there was no point in looking shabby if that was the case.
Unfortunately, there was a certain amount of suffering you had to endure to look good, sometimes. The warmest clothes were usually not the most fashionable, and in cutting a slim and trim figure, one naturally had to forego the kind of padding that would be most insulating.
He spared a glance for Fretful and her tank, but it wasn’t chill enough yet in the year to freeze the water, and she didn’t seem to be any more restless than she usually was, as far as he could tell.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 22:00:57 GMT -6
Well, if things got less favorable as the night went on -- in terms of temperature, anyway -- the big feature of the event itself was the bonfire, and Malcolm had plans to set himself in its general vicinity anyway. He had read over the invitation a little more closely in one of the evenings, as he was taking a little wine, and most of the actual activities advertised therein didn’t hold much interest for him.
But it did afford him a good opportunity to people watch.
He didn’t expect the old friend he was searching for to come here, of course. But perhaps there would be someone who knew of him. Almost certainly there would be the sort of well connected, extroverted busybodies who would know a friend of a friend who had glimpsed a fellow matching that description, and Malcolm figured that would be his real best bet for finding a lead.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 22:01:16 GMT -6
And the matter of making business contacts also couldn’t be overlooked, since it was no secret that funding was a real issue sometimes when you were just getting yourself established. It was, granted, a little harder to tell who was rich and who wasn’t in this city; the rules and social mores were not quite what he was used to, and this whole business of creatures left Malcolm firmly out of his comfort zone. But he would make do. He had to.
The bonfire was, fortunately, already lit when he arrived. And it was a proper pyre of a thing, make no mistake. Malcolm, who admittedly had never been to a bonfire event himself, was a little taken aback. Fire held different, and rather more sacred, connotations in the land he haled from -- or at least a fiery demonstration of this magnitude certainly would have, if not the little daily cook fires and the like.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 22:04:08 GMT -6
People did have to live, after all, and sacred or not, fire also had its practical uses. But the last time he had seen a flame that large was the funeral rites for the Queen’s passing, and so that was what came to mind, briefly, when he first laid eyes on it.
… Right. Perhaps he needed this. He had been growing complacent, wasting too much time. While he was playing around here, chasing after dead ends and strange ventures, he was sure others would be consolidating their positions, finding their own candidates…
This man you’re looking for, a voice whispered in his mind. Malcolm blinked, startled for a moment at finding himself unexpectedly addressed. Then he realized who it was, and what it must be, and sighed. He had never been prone to hallucinations before this, and it was still such a thing to get used to, having a voice in your head.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 22:07:21 GMT -6
“Fret,” he said pleasantly, though he certainly didn’t feel that way about having his thoughts interrupted. He had thought he’d taken off the damned ribbon. “What is it?”
That man, the fish repeated. How are you so certain you’ll find him?
“I’m sure I have my means,” Malcolm replied.
He could be dead, she said. He really did dislike her voice. It was always soft, a papery sort of rustling, even though a telepathic voice had no right to ‘sound’ like anything. He supposed it was some sort of trick of the mind, that he was so used to hearing speech that his mind supplied something like it even in its absence; but if that was the case, he wished it would have conjured a less unpleasant manifestation.
“That’s quite enough out of you, my dear,” he said, and slipped the ribbon off from its place.
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Post by Malcolm on Feb 21, 2022 22:10:40 GMT -6
He stuffed it in his pocket, not even bothering to glance back to see her reaction. He wasn’t sure he could have read it anyway, and it was a power play here more than anything: to show her that he was still the one calling the shots, that he could terminate their connection like it was nothing. And it was. It was nothing. She said things like that all the time, trying to get under his skin, he supposed -- like a teenager pushing boundaries. He would get on with his work, and strike up some small conversations. Ah, there was a likely looking fellow; he would start immediately.
And yet, as the night went on, the little seed of doubt that Fretful had planted did not entirely leave him. Unbidden, the thought came again: what if his old friend really had died?
Right, next time he would remember to take the ribbon off again straight away.
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Post by NPC on Feb 23, 2022 21:35:13 GMT -6
Congratulations, you have successfully completed the quest! Your QP will be added to the bank and your prize will be sent out shortly.
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